Without another phantom word, he thrust me back into my own strand and opened up what I refer to as simply the "Field of Vision," where I could watch the events of my planet unfold around me. As time slipped by, unbeknownst to me at first just how much, I learned the sickening controls of the Field of Vision, how to turn it, to control the very essence of it. Drudging through my pain and grief at this unbelievable penance, I sorted out through the field my own hometown, located many moons from the lands of Kalimdor.
To my disdain, the first sight granted me was human soldiers patrolling the streets, and oddly enough, my elven dignitaries roaming the streets. They must have secured the town in the short time I was gone, which surprised me none at all. Yet, something grotesque was awaiting my perusal through the field. I spotted a corpse hanging on a wooden stake, its naked body pegged with a single bolt to the top of the stake through the hands. It was an elven body. My body.
Emotions swirled around me at the field scattered into the whirlwind. A great roar erupted throughout my strand, wrought with pain and anguish. I let loose the scream borne of betrayal and lost faith in my people and myself. I screamed for longer than I care to admit, letting my emotions control me. Days later the scream stopped. I could feel my spirit begin to wane, somewhat weakened. In this state, I could not fight the field of vision, which chose of its own accord to show me what I had to see, at the behest of the nether and it's demented masters.
It opened to my corpse once again, this time during dawn, where three elven children were playing around it. Apparently the local dignitaries and the humans themselves had taught the children a little rhyme to warn them of what happened to threats to the alliance, such as myself.
"Daesalliss killed for his treason,
May his soul burn inside the legion."